This was by far the most uplifting, pragmatic, exciting panel at the Translation Marketplace. Not that the others were uninteresting, but for whatever reason, great independent booksellers have a way of making you feel like change is possible, like the situation isn’t that bad, like it’s really worthwhile to keep forging ahead.
Karl Pohrt of Shaman Drum moderated this panel that included Sarah McNally of McNally Robinson, Rick Simonson of Elliott Bay Book Company, and Paul Yamazaki of City Lights. With Mitchell Kaplan in the audience, we literally had five of the most knowledgeable booksellers in the country in one room discussing innovative ways for publishers and bookstores to work together to sell international literature. And with Barbara Epler from New Directions, Jill Schoolman from Archipelago, and Michael Reynolds from Europa Editions, publishers were also well represented.
Basically, this panel was an opportunity for each bookseller to highlight what his/her store was able to do to sell works in translation. Each panelist—maybe with the exception of Sarah—recognized that their store was somewhat unusual, yet they all put forth the idea that it’s not hard to sell international literature if you actually try.
Karl spent some time talking up Reading the World, a unique collaboration between publishers and independent booksellers to promote international literature. Basically, this program is made up of 15 presses, 25 presses, and 200 bookstores that display these books and promo materials throughout the month of June. He also pointed out that independent booksellers need a new model to be able to survive, such as having a nonprofit component highlighting the good to the community that independent bookstores provide. (More on this in a future post . . .)
Sarah highlighted some interesting statistics from her store, including the fact that 52.5% of the titles in her fiction section are from international authors. She also said that the translations displayed on the front table of the store outsell American fiction on a regular basis. And echoing the day’s first panel, she believes B&N is to blame for helping create the prejudice that translations don’t sell.
Paul praised younger staff members at City Lights for creating all the great displays in the store. He also pointed out that booksellers are naturally curious about literature and though, and seek out international literature from unique, independent presses.
Rick mentioned the readings Elliott Bay hosts for translators, and the incredible success booksellers there have in handselling international literature, especially in connection to people buying travel guides.
Mitchell gave us all the great idea of “Food for Thought” book clubs through which restaurants and booksellers work together to promote international literature. For a minimal cost—say $50—readers would get a copy of a book and be able to attend a lunch or dinner at a local restaurant where a facilitator would lead a discussion of the book. (This seems so simple and easy to replicate . . .)
There was also a great conversation about the ways publishers and booksellers could collaborate, how we could create self-contained promotions for bookstores, how we could get the books into the hands of enthusiastic booksellers who are searching for something new and exciting—and I truly believe this conversation will continue well into the future.
What was most exciting was the sentiment that contrary to the typical doom and gloom, it’s entirely possible to find readers for international works of literature—we just have to remain passionate and keep trying. And communicate more.
It’s also worth noting that booksellers are way more in tune with what’s being published than any other segment of the industry, and are more knowledgeable about what readers actually are willing to read than anyone else. They are at the front lines so to speak, and deserve to play a much bigger role in conversations about book culture.
And I was also struck by the way all of these booksellers (and publishers) are focused on passing on their passion for great literature to younger readers/employees. They clearly embodied the belief that taking a long-term view and looking toward the future is much more valuable than focusing on short-term results. This idea manifests itself in different ways in the publishing industry, including the way a lot of non-profits are dedicated to cultivating an audience for a book over decades, rather than focusing on net sales for the first year following a book’s release. But it can be applied in many more ways, and building upon an earlier post about the role founders and directors can play in encouraging people to start new initiatives, I think it’s really valuable to keep this in mind when talking about something like the book industry that usually doesn’t offer the same financial rewards as other fields.
Antoine Volodine’s vast project (40 plus novels) of what he calls the post-exotic remains mostly untranslated, so for many of us, understanding it remains touched with mystery, whispers from those “who know,” and guesswork. That’s not to say that, were. . .
It hasn’t quite neared the pitch of the waiting-in-line-at-midnight Harry Potter days, but in small bookstores and reading circles of New York City, an aura has attended the novelist Elena Ferrante and her works. One part curiosity (Who is she?),. . .
From the late 1940s to the early 1950s, Egypt was going through a period of transition. The country’s people were growing unhappy with the corruption of power in the government, which had been under British rule for decades. The Egyptians’. . .
Miruna is a novella written in the voice of an adult who remembers the summer he (then, seven) and his sister, Miruna (then, six) spent in the Evil Vale with their grandfather (sometimes referred to as “Grandfather,” other times as. . .
Kamal Jann by the Lebanese born author Dominique Eddé is a tale of familial and political intrigue, a murky stew of byzantine alliances, betrayals, and hostilities. It is a well-told story of revenge and, what’s more, a serious novel that. . .
While looking back at an episode in his life, twenty-year-old Taguchi Hiro remembers what his friend Kumamoto Akira said about poetry.
Its perfection arises precisely from its imperfection . . . . I have an image in my head. I see. . .
The central concern of Sorj Chalandon’s novel Return to Killybegs appears to be explaining how a person of staunch political activism can be lead to betray his cause, his country, his people. Truth be told, the real theme of the. . .
Spoiler alert: acclaimed writer Stefan Zweig and his wife Lotte kill themselves at the end of Lauren Seksik’s 2010 novel, The Last Days.
It’s hard to avoid spoiling this mystery. Zweig’s suicide actually happened, in Brazil in 1942, and since then. . .
To call Kjell Askildsen’s style sparse or terse would be to understate just how far he pushes his prose. Almost nothing is explained, elaborated on. In simple sentences, events occur, words are exchanged, narrators have brief thoughts. As often as. . .
After a mysterious woman confesses to an author simply known as “R” that she has loved him since she was a teenager, she offers the following explanation: “There is nothing on earth like the love of a child that passes. . .